You Are The Moon
by Zagury
Summary: I can't help but feel you've lost your wings and forgotten how to leave yourself. For Renata.


And you had never been so different before.

I don't know how to say it correctly, really, because now I'm at a loss of words to explain this to you. You've always been hard to pinpoint, so difficult to understand and that's always been because of how you are. You're loony, you see, never have had your head on straight—or maybe we're all just wearing our heads the wrong way and you're the only one that's got it all figured out. I wouldn't doubt you.

But this different is new. You aren't the same spark you used to be; there is no skip in your step or a tweet to your whistle, the air that used to be in your voice has disappeared and you speak now with a heaviness, a gravity. It's impossible for you to change completely because of this, I know, because you were always able to find yourself. If there was anything you had ever been good at, it was finding other people and I know you have found yourself more than once.

You used to have this light about you, see, this light that always shined in the moonlight and made you glow when the sun came out to play. You had the world in your hands and you taught it how to fly.

But now I can't help but feel that you've lost your wings and you've forgotten how to leave yourself.

There are so many things that could have made you this way. Your father was murdered for betrayal and you were exiled for being his daughter before they cleared up that situation in court. I know that scarred you. You cried for days and I was always there to hold your silver hair back from your neck because that's what you needed me to do. I was with you always. I promised I wouldn't leave your side.

You won't tell anyone about it, so I know that your torture was too much to bear. You scream sometimes at night, this new you, and you wake up in the morning with fresh tears on your cheeks. I make sure to wake up before you now because I know you hate for me to see you like this. You were always so strong.

But you're back with me now. You're back home and you're safe. I know that it will take long for things to fade and for you to sleep peacefully next to me each night. I know you won't speak of anything, that you will spend hours on our sofa weeping with a pillow hugged to your chest because something happened again inside your head.

You're broken.

_Shadows all around you as you surface from the dark  
Emerging from the gentle grip of night's unfolding arms  
Darkness, darkness everywhere, do you feel all alone?  
The subtle grace of gravity, the heavy weight of stone_

You stand in front of the mirrors in the morning while I'm making your breakfast. You stare at your silver, blonde hair and you pluck at the seams of your clothes. You twist your arms to see your bony elbows and you turn around to look at the outline of your spine. When you've had a particularly bad night, you lean so close to the glass and run your fingers over your cheeks, as if to will them away.

I won't lie and tell you that you're as beautiful as you used to be on the outside. You're paler, you're thinner and you're too rough on the edges now. You used to be so smooth, just liquid skin that I could cup in my hands. You don't eat as much as you used to and because of this, I don't either. I lose more and more of myself physically every day but I know that in some kind of strange way, you are grateful.

But you don't seem to understand that you are just as miraculous as you always were on the inside.

I know that in time you'll be able to come out and tell me everything, and I know that I might have to wait years and years for that moment. You were never shallow and this experience, this war seems to have made you bottomless. You still smile at me when I tell you that we've got a Nargal infestation and you always reply with, "Silly, you'd be scratching at your eyes if they were here."

"And how do you know that?" I ask you, just because I like to hear your voice.

"Didn't Harry tell you how much Cho Chang cried after he kissed her?" This makes me laugh and I dig my face into your shoulder; it's a perfect place for my cheek and I know you love it when I'm close to you.

You don't talk as much as you used to. Normally I respect this as I tell you about my day over dinner, I say things without expecting much response. Usually you nod and smile, you make a lot of eye contact and pause when I say something that might make you want to speak. But then you just go back to chewing your chicken or digging through your salad (you always eat the peanuts first).

There are days when I know I have to tell you how perfect you are before you get out of bed. I lean to you in our bed while you're still in that stage between sleep and awake. I press my lips to your cheek and smile a little, just enough so that you can feel it and I tell you that you're beautiful.

You turn your head and open your eyes lazily, smiling your morning smile and stretching. When you bring your arms back down, you rest your hand on my forehead and brush away any loose strands that might have fallen in my face. I smooth my hand down your side, brush your cheek with the back of my hand. You close your eyes again.

Between a sigh, I hear you say, "I love you," and if it was going to be the only thing I heard from you that day, it would be just fine with me.

You don't see what you possess, a beauty calm and clear  
It floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier  
All the light that you possess is skewed by lakes and seas  
The shattered surface, so imperfect, is all that you believe

I don't know how to make you feel different than this. I don't know what I'm supposed to say that will make you tell me more than a few things. I don't know what I'm supposed to do that will give me a chance of you taking a warm bath with me again like you used to. I don't know what I'm supposed to do that will get you to make the special tea that you love, the kind you used to always drink on Sunday mornings.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do for you but do you know that I am trying?

I want to be able to have you speak to me in the morning like you did over breakfast, when you abandoned your house and came to sit with me. You always found the best in me when you told me of India over bagels, you always wanted to see those hidden parts of me when we dug into eggs and if I was stumbling to class, you'd tell me about your occasionally cracked up dream while I downed my coffee. Sometimes you made me drop all my things and you'd apologize heartedly and make up just the right excuse as to why I was late to Transfiguration.

I want to be able to show you how marvelous you are. I used to be able to do that under the moonlight, when my lips brushed your ribs and my hands ghosted your thighs. I used to be able to whisper it against your kisses, used to convince you with mere words and I used to solidify those promises with my actions. You used to believe me so easily but now you are different. I hope you don't doubt me.

It is one morning after I've made you breakfast and when you haven't come to the table at 7:13 like you normally do, I find you still wrapped underneath the sheets. We don't sleep without clothes, haven't since we moved in together and it isn't because we're often intimate; it is because you love the way the cotton feels against your skin and I'm always happy to agree with you.

I climb into my spot next to you and even though you're turned against the wall, even though I know you won't answer me, I say, "Good morning."

You surprise me when you move to wipe the back of your hand over your eyes and after breathing deeply, you turn around to face me. Your eyes are red and your cheeks are moist but I still think you're absolutely breathtaking.

You say, "I'm tired."

I just nod, because I don't know what to say, because I'm so happy that you're speaking to me before noon. I draw circles on the back of your shoulder like I used to before all of this happened to you.

You close your eyes. "Do you think it would be possible to forget all of this?"

You prefer it when I'm honest, so I say, "No."

You open your eyes to meet mine and your fingers twine between locks of my hair. "Then help me to remember."

I can only nod because everything you said was perfect.

"I love you," I say. I know you need to hear it; I know you need to know that this isn't just a dream. This is a moment, this is a presence; this is a promise and I know that we won't ever forget it.

You smile and you say, "I know."

_I will bring a mirror, so silver, so exact  
So precise and so pristine, a perfect pane of glass  
I will set the mirror up to face the blackened sky  
You will see your beauty every moment that you rise_


End file.
